Thoughts on books, religion, gardening, The Holy, and a priest's good life of semi-retirement

Television

August 14, 2012

Yes, I'm on sabbatical. Last night I tried my first blog post of the trip, and got hung up by the length of time it took to post photos. So maybe I'll try again, but not right now. I need to work on reducing their size for blog posting, I think.

My first question is, how did I ever get so lucky to have work that gives me 3 months of paid leave for "true sabbath," that is, "rest," every 5-7 years? I certainly didn't know about this when I was in discernment for the priesthood -- I didn't choose this vocation (well, I didn't really choose it anyway -- it kind of chose me) based on getting a sabbatical. I think I first heard about this when I was graduating from seminary, but I never really dreamed it could happen for me! I tried to plan a sabbatical 3 years ago, and nothing seemed to work out right. This time, after nearly 10 years at St. Raphael's, everything just seemed to fall into place in the most wonderful ways.

So now I have embarked on the adventure of a lifetime. I don't think I've had three months off work since the summer after my freshman year of high school.

My plans are in three parts. The first two weeks I spent with my family, staying with my sister-in-law in Illinois, and haunting Terre Haute, Indiana, where I grew up. I took many sentimental journeys there, revisiting places and people that meant (and still mean) lots to me in my growing up years. As I said, I hope to post pictures: of the 2 houses where I spent my childhood, schools I attended, etc. I also had the opportunity to spend time with 2 of my life's best friends -- women I've known since we all were 13 years old. And I had a lovely visit with my one remaining brother, Paul, who was my childhood companion, and who is the only remaining person alive who has known me since I was born (well, except for my Uncle John, whom I haven't seen in decades).

Things aren't always working out as I'd planned (thanks, John Lennon, for saying that life is what happens when you're busy making other plans), but I feel like a sponge, soaking up every experience, every adventure, and learning from it all. So far, it's wonderful. Miraculous, even. I'm eating well and abstinently (no flour, sugar, or alcohol, weighed and measured quantities, regular calls to my dear, long-suffering sponsor). I'm feeling such gratitude. I even heard God in church (where else?) last Sunday -- it's great not to have to be "in charge," and just go and sing and listen. Life is amazing right now.

Now I'm in Buffalo, NY (well, near there, anyway), camping by the lake in my friend Cheryl's cozy, sweet little trailer, and using a mobile hot-spot that I purchased in order to have the internet while I'm here. My plan is to be here by the lake during the week, when the campground is nearly empty, and then be in Buffalo on the weekends, doing city things. I'm also hoping to get a lot of writing done. I'll be here for the next 4 weeks with my faithful dogs -- and with Cheryl, too, beginning next week. Today it was beautiful in the morning, and then it rained, which was also nice. I've experimented with my camera's auto-timer, and taken pictures of myself outside, alone and with the dogs. It's the kind of day when it's hard to know what to wear -- it's damp, so feels cool, but too warm for jeans and sweaters. So I keep changing clothes.

I've had time for reading (Cynthia Bourgeault, "The Meaning of Mary Magdalene;" Phil Cousineau, "The Art of Pilgrimage;" Richard Rohr, "Breathing Under Water;" Diane Mott Davidson, "Fatally Flaky," and more and more to come). I've been catching up on Jack's Blog, which I'm enjoying very much. I've been catching up on email. I've been taking naps. I've even been reading Facebook from time to time! Sunday I got to finally see "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel." I guess it would be hard to go wrong with the cast it has, but I was simply enchanted. I could have stayed with those people and watched their lives the whole night, and was sad when the 2 hours was over.

I'm also listening to a lot of old music -- revisiting the past, I guess. Before I left, I downloaded Beach Boys (yes, it feels like 1966), Neil Diamond (yes, it feels like 1973), the BeeGees (yes, it feels like 1982), James Taylor (1971). Oh, music can take me right back to how it felt back then! I've also got "Graceland," the Beatles, and "Born in the USA," and I keep thinking of more music I want.

The next leg of my great sabbatical adventure is Europe -- 5 weeks in Belgium, France, Spain, and Italy. Parishioners have given me a week's time share in southern Italy and a week in southern Spain. I'll be chasing black madonnas all over the continent! I'm particularly excited about seeing Paris, about which I've had dreams -- literal, night-dreams, though I've never been there, and about all the madonnas I'll be near in southern France and northern Spain. It's truly going to be a once-in-a-lifetime trip -- unless my retirement dreams of winters in Sicily and summers in the US really work out.

June 03, 2010

There are no pictures today. The only pictures that I could show today are already on the television news, and they're too sickening to show here.

I want to giggle with you tonight. I want to tell you about the big ice cream cone I ate at suppertime, the chocolate-coated DQ tower of YUM that I've been craving for two weeks. I want to tell you about the farm, the estate, the plantation I visited today, the home of parishioners, complete with goats and chickens and sweet outside doggies and two ponds, and a perfect little A-frame cottage that's just right for me! I want to tell you what I learned about goats, and what a beautiful salad and scrumptious rolls I had for lunch, and how good the company was, including the little boy I baptized a while back, who sat under the lunch table today and sang, "Jesus Loves Me" (he was shy). And I want to whine about how I got reamed out (not by these particular parishioners, who love me) for not singing patriotic songs at church last Sunday, and what is all this crazy feminist stuff about Wisdom being portrayed as female?

But I can't. I really can't giggle and whine about all those things tonight. There's something else that's consuming me, and breaking my heart.

I can't forget the terrible images of the Gulf oil spill making landfall, of oil-coated birds, blinking in shock and slowly suffocating. After seeing those sweet lady chickens today, the ones that laid the eggs that I have in my refrigerator tonight, after watching my sweet owlets, who are fledging and leaving their owl box, one by one -- how can I forget those stunned, goo-coated birds, the brown wetland grasses that have been immediately killed, the fishermen who can't pay their mortgages while BP spends scores of millions of dollars on a huge PR campaign?

I'm just sick with it all. I'm sick to hear that the whole mess may well wash around the Florida peninsula over to the Atlantic coast, and perhaps even clear across the Atlantic Ocean. I even have a little corner of fear that this could turn into some apocalyptic, earth-and-ocean destroying event. I know, it's probably a little histrionic -- but it's all so out of control.

My heart hurts. My heart hurts for those 11 men who died on that oil rig, and for their families. By extension, my heart hurts all over again for those 29 miners in West Virginia and their families, too, because it's all about big energy corporations that place extraction and profit far above safety and human life and this beautiful world we live in. My heart hurts for the fishermen and tourism workers, and all the peripheral lives that will be disrupted and destroyed by this disaster. And I have a real soft spot for all those innocent animals who don't have a clue what's happening to them and their offspring and their habitat.

And worst of all, I know that I'm complicit in this mess, every time I start my car, every time I use some petroleum based plastic product (can you say "trash and grocery bags"?), every time I turn on my air conditioning. I like my gas cheap, my cars fast, and my travel unlimited. And so are we all part of the problem. We can all scream and whine and cry and be furious, but if we drive, or if we heat or cool ourselves or our bathwater, or do any one of a hundred thousand things that make our lives more comfortable -- better living through petroleum and fossil fuels -- we're all complicit in this. We've all contributed to the situation. Unless you're reading this from completely off the public-utility grid, you're surely complicit, right along with me.

And tonight that doesn't feel very good, to feel so involved, so much a cause of the problem, and so helpless to do much about it. That's all. I hope things will look a little brighter by tomorrow.

June 27, 2007

It has been a busy week; a beloved parishioner died, and planning a funeral, combined with my own emotional reaction, makes it all seem busier than it actually has been. So I haven't had much time to think profound thoughts or get out in the garden (also above 80 every day, including humidity percentage).

When I looked over my film list, I caught 3 movies that I saw and did not highlight: Cabaret, Rear Window, and Dr. Strangelove. I caught others that I'm pretty sure I saw part of, but either fell asleep or was too high to remember the plots or endings (high? me? It was a long, long time ago). I think I've fallen asleep at least twice during Citizen Kane -- does that count as one complete viewing?

I'm looking forward to Top Chef on Bravo tonight. I just watched a couple of reruns of Project Runway, and Next to Queer Eye, that's got to be my favorite Bravo reality TV show. But Top Chef is fascinating because they know so much about food (I had to Google geoduck -- not poultry at all!), and they combine things in such bizarre ways -- sometimes making me think, "Hmmmm!" but other times the food seems just plain bizarre.

I'm getting more and more excited about my vacation. All arrangements are in place, and I'm trying to decide what clothes to take, etc. I might even bring a BIG suitcase, even for 2 weeks. I can't wait to spend 2 weeks with my best friend on the shores of Lake Erie. Maybe we'll even set up a card table in the water and play cards there, as we saw some folks do more than once!

But finally, my most important discovery: Last night I saw Paul McCartney on Larry King. He's 65 now, and doesn't exactly look like ten miles of bad road, but maybe five. But hey -- the last few years haven't been easy on him. I still wonder when he's going to figure out that his destiny is to grow old with me? I mean it. I need to meet this man, but since he's not religious, I don't figure I have any trick cards to play. If he was a religious guy, I could play the priest card. Oh, well. If you get any big ideas, be sure to let me know. I guess I stand a better chance with some of the Nashville cuties, since I'm within 2 hours of there.

No pictures this time, though the lamb chop I had for dinner tonight was a sight for sore eyes.